


Club Agrotera

by NonVoxSedVotum



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Other, Strippers & Strip Clubs, strip club au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2017-12-30 19:27:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1022504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NonVoxSedVotum/pseuds/NonVoxSedVotum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the Hunters are exotic dancers at a club owned by Artemis and frequented by the boys of the series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Never in a million years would Bianca di Angelo have thought she would end up as an exotic dancer. Until a few days ago, she had been looking forward to a life looking after her little brother while she got a respectable job in an office or a shop. The prospect hadn’t excited her, but she had been resigned to it. That is, until she met Thalia Grace.

Thalia walked into the small coffee shop where Bianca worked like she owned the place, strutting in wearing knee-high leather boots, a cropped leather jacket and tank top, short shorts, and fishnet stockings to top the whole thing off.

She gave her order, and Bianca asked, “Name?”

“Thalia,” she said. “And you?”

“My name’s Bianca,” she said, a little startled by the question—most customers didn’t take much interest in the employees.

“You don’t look happy,” Thalia said, leaning on the counter.

“Oh, I’m fine,” Bianca said. “Just…the daily grind, you know.”

Thalia’s eyes gleamed. “You wouldn’t be in the market for a new job, would you?”

Bianca shrugged. “I might be. Why?”

“I think we might be able to offer you something a little…different. You like dancing?”

“Well, yes, but…” Bianca pointedly looked Thalia up and down. “What _kind_ of dancing?”

Thalia shrugged easily. “So maybe it involves a pole and less clothing than considered socially acceptable. You still want to give it a go?”

Normally, Bianca would have refused, but something about the glimmer in Thalia’s eyes made her feel a little reckless. “Sure, I’ll consider it,” she said.

“Here. Take this.” Thalia handed her a silver business card embossed with the words _Club Agrotera_ in script font, along with a few words of description.

“‘The Hunters?’” Bianca read. She looked up, confused. “I thought you were a dancer.”

Thalia laughed, not unkindly. “ _Agrotera_ means ‘huntress’ in Greek, so Lady A calls us the Hunters as her own little in-joke. The name kind of stuck with the regulars, so we got it printed on our business cards.”

“Lady A?”

“She’s the owner of the club. She’s a little strict, but she takes care of us.” Thalia tapped the card. “Think about it and give us a call.” She took her drink, smiled Bianca, and left.

**~~~**

A couple of weeks later, Bianca wove through the platforms on the main floor behind Thalia, feeling somewhat intimidated. She had no idea how to pole dance. She’d never been in a strip club in her life. What had she been thinking, calling up the number on that card? And why had she gone through with it and showed up today?

“Let me think…there are only a couple of rules,” Thalia said. “Let me see if I can remember them all.”

“No boyfriends, no alcohol on the job, put the logo somewhere on thee, wear the silver heels, pick thy personal dance song, and tell someone if something happens that you do not like,” a voice said from behind the two.

Bianca turned to see a girl walking down the steps from the upper floor. She would be tall even without the silver stilettos she wore, and had coppery skin and long, dark hair. She carried herself like a queen, and Bianca briefly wondered if this was Lady A.

“Zoë,” Thalia said. “You’re dressed early.”

“I wanted to practice,” Zoë said. As she drew closer, Bianca could see she had thin silver cords braided into her hair. “And you should, too. Kara called off sick today, so we will be short a dancer.” Her eyes fell on Bianca. “Oh, you must be the new girl. I am Zoë Nightshade.”

She held out a hand and Bianca shook it, feeling self-conscious. She hadn’t even tried walking in the heels yet; how was she supposed to dance and carry herself as gracefully as this girl did?

As Zoë pulled her hand away, Bianca noticed that she had the club’s logo—a crescent moon forming a bow with an arrow—tattooed on the inside of her wrist. She wondered how long you had to work somewhere to get the logo permanently inked onto your body—though Zoë didn’t look much older than Bianca.

“So those are the rules?” Bianca asked.

“They are. If you forget any, they are posted in the dressing room.” She walked on, mounting one of the smaller stages.

“See that center stage?” Thalia asked. “The one with the catwalk?”

“Yeah.”

“You get to dance there once or twice per night. Lady A likes to showcase her dancers, so you’ll pick a song and choreograph a dance for it. Any song you want—but try to keep it classy, all right? Lady A runs a top-notch establishment, after all.”

**~~~**

The first week was so overwhelming that Bianca could barely tell up from down. Thalia was her savior, teaching her how to walk in the club-issued silver stilettos and helping her figure out her dance outfit.

“I want something sexy, you know?” Bianca said. “But not too over-the-top.”

Thalia nodded. “I’m thinking crop top and boy shorts, and maybe some sheer black stockings. And you could throw a fishnet top over it all if you wanted.”

So that was what Bianca had gone with, and she had to admit she looked great in it. She also felt ten times more confident, which was good. Lady A often talked about how confidence was the key to being a good dancer and—by extension—getting patrons.

Bianca made her way to the dressing room. It was larger than Bianca had first expected; with couches, a mini fridge, curtained-off changing stalls, and showers—“To wash off the sweat and glitter at the end of the night,” Thalia explained.

Bianca dropped her duffel bag onto one of the couches. “Hey, Phoebe. Is Thalia here yet?”

Phoebe swallowed the swig of energy drink she’d just taken. “Dunno. I haven’t seen her.”

“And Zoë?”

“Warming up onstage.”

Sure enough, as Bianca made her way into the main part of the club, she heard the orchestral strains of the opening to “Shadows of the Night/Harden My Heart.” Zoë stretched on the main stage, placing the heel of one foot up against the pole and leaning forward until her legs were almost completely parallel to the pole.

Bianca knew Zoë worked for years to get that kind of flexibility, but she was still jealous. Zoë made it look so _easy_ —and that was probably why she was one of the most popular dancers at the club.

With effortless grace, Zoë pulled herself up and began her more complicated aerial moves on the pole, the ones that relied on enormous upper body strength and precision to ensure she didn’t wind up faceplanting on the stage. Bianca had yet to gather the courage to try anything like that—she’d done some off-the-ground work, but never anything that involved taking her legs off the pole.

“It’s a process,” Thalia had explained to her one day as they rehearsed. “You won’t be up and doing flips and windmills and so on within your first month. Hell, don’t even expect to do those within your first year. It takes time, just like everything else.”

“Looking good, Zoë,” Bianca said as the older girl dropped back to the stage.

Zoë gave her a brief smile and adjusted her black-and-silver leotard. It was one of the more modest costumes in the club, its only truly revealing part being the slashes across the chest. Still, Zoë looked amazing in it, and it fit her dance style well.

“You should warm up,” Zoë said. “The club will open before you know it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bianca said with a smile. She started to head back to the dressing room.

“And Bianca,” Zoë called after her. “If thy brother shows up and pesters thee again, I will ask Lady A to throw him out.”

Bianca had never figured out why Zoë throw around _thee_ ’s and _thy_ ’s like it was the fifteenth century, but she didn’t think it her place to ask. “You don’t have to do that,” she replied. “He’s not really bothering me.”

Zoë frowned. “He is distracting thee from thy work and losing thee costumers. I think that is bothersome enough.”

“I can handle it, Zoë. But thanks anyway.”

Zoë only _hmph_ ed and hoisted herself back onto the pole to continue practicing. Bianca went back to the dressing room to change. Zoë was right; the club would open soon and Bianca wanted to be nice and limber by the time patrons started showing up. She hoped it would be a successful night.

**~~~**

“I am _not_ going to a strip club.”

Jason gave Percy an exasperated look. “What’s the big deal? It’s not like it’s a _strip_ club, even. You’re just going to watch them dance. It’s like the ballet or something, just…with less clothing.”

Percy crossed his arms. “That’s a terrible comparison, first of all. And second, the ‘big deal’ is that I have a girlfriend.”

“So do I, you idiot.”

Percy glared at Jason. His friends had gotten him to do some stupid things in the past, but this was the stupidest thing by far. If Annabeth found out…no, he didn’t even want to think about it.

“What, and you think Piper likes it?”

“Sure she does. She’s even gone with me a few times.” Jason crossed his arms. “I bet Annabeth wouldn’t mind joining you if you asked.”

“I’m pretty sure Piper just goes to keep you out of trouble. And _no_ , I’m not asking Annabeth to come with.”

“Can you guys stop arguing and make up your minds already?” Luke said. He stood at the door, keys in hand. “We don’t have all night.”

“Quit being a wet blanket and let’s just go,” Jason said. “It’ll be fun.”

“You know what?” Percy said. “Fine. Fine, I’ll go. But just this once, and neither of you tell Annabeth, all right?”

“Yeah, we promise,” Jason said. “Right, Luke?”

“Sure,” Luke said. He ducked into his bedroom for a moment and emerged with a dress shirt and slacks, which he tossed at Percy.  

Percy caught them before they could hit him in the face. “What are these for?”

“It’s not like you can go wearing _that_ ,” Luke said. “It’s a gentlemen’s club, after all.”

Percy sighed and ducked into the bathroom to change.

Some twenty minutes later, Luke parked his car outside a downtown club that Percy had somehow never noticed before. It looked clean and fairly high-end, which surprised Percy a little bit. He didn’t think Luke had the income to support a habit like this.

“Club Agrotera, huh?” he said. “Sounds fancy.”

“It is, so remember to behave like a gentleman, would you?” Luke said. “I’d hate to get kicked out.”

A young woman in a silver and white tunic-style dress greeted at the hostess’s podium. Her auburn hair was caught back with a silver headband. Though she didn’t look much older than Percy, there was something about her expression that made her seem almost timeless, like she’d seen and done a lot in her lifetime.

“Welcome to Club Agrotera,” she said. “I’m Artemis, the owner. You’re new,” she added, looking Percy right in the eye.

“Um, yes,” he said, a little startled that she’d noticed him, half-hidden behind Luke and Jason as he was.

“I’m sure you know how to conduct yourself, but in case you’re unsure, the rules are posted on our website. And I’m also sure your friends will be more than happy to inform you of them.” She raised an eyebrow. “I’d rather not have to kick anyone out, so please behave yourself, Mr. Jackson.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Percy said. It wasn’t until later that he realized he’d never told her his name.

Despite its classy atmosphere, the club wasn’t very populated. Percy wondered if it was because it was too early for many people to be out or because the place was just that exclusive. Some patrons sat at the bar, while others lounged around the many small stages where girls danced. The center stage, however, was empty.

Luke caught a lithe girl with short, blue-streaked black hair around the waist as she passed. “Hey there,” he said.

“Watch those hands,” she said mock-sternly. “Wouldn’t want Lady A to throw you out.”

He waved the comment off but let her go. With a grin, she sauntered off. Something about her was familiar to Percy, but he couldn’t figure out how for a moment until he realized she and Jason had the same bright blue eyes.

“Hey! Wasn’t that your sister?”

“Yup,” Jason said, looking around as though searching for someone.

“And this doesn’t _bother_ you?”

He shrugged. “Why should it? She’s an adult. I can’t help the fact that she happens to work at the best club in town.”

“Um…okay.” Percy wasn’t sure if he would feel the same way in Jason’s position, but it didn’t matter.

“Pour Some Sugar On Me” started to play and Luke punched Percy on the arm. “Shut up, Thalia’s going to dance,” he said.

“How do you know—?”

“Because this is her song. And I said shut _up_.”

Thalia sauntered down the catwalk of the main stage, seemingly in no hurry to get onstage. She paused briefly to give Luke a small wave, then started her dance.

“That’s, um, athletic,” Percy said, seeing Thalia perform seemingly gravity-defying acrobatics on the pole. As he watched, she hung upside-down and plucked a bill from Luke’s outstretched hand.

“Yup,” Jason said, eyes on a dancer at one of the smaller stages. “You got any singles?”

“You came to a strip club without any singles?”

Jason said nothing and held out his hand. With a sigh, Percy dug out his wallet and handed Jason a small stack of ones. Without so much as a “thanks, dude,” Jason headed over to the dancer.

Percy slouched in his seat, trying to avoid everyone’s gaze. A few dancers eyed him with interest, but since he made no move to offer them money, they moved on. Deciding he might as well try to relax, Percy went to join Jason at the dancer’s stage. He tossed a few singles at her for good measure, and because he had to admit she was talented. Maybe not as acrobatic as Thalia, but still, Percy could never do anything of the sort. He doubted he would even be able to get off the ground, much less move like she was.

The song ended and Thalia collected her tips, gave a small bow, and clicked offstage. Jason’s dancer blew him a kiss, hopped off her stage, and walked away, pausing to collect one last bill from him.

“Lovely girls, the Hunters,” Jason said with a sigh, leaning back in his seat.

Percy made a noncommittal noise and tapped his shoe against the glitter-embedded black floor. The music in the club was varied in style but pretty good, he had to admit, even if not all of it was quite to his taste.

Jason, for his part, seemed to be trying to decide which dancer to patron next. Percy couldn’t blame his indecision. The girls were all gorgeous, though no two looked alike. The only thing they seemed to have in common was athleticism and the ability to walk regally in six-inch silver stilettos.

Percy looked over at the staircase in time to see Thalia leading Luke upstairs by his tie.

“I think I need a drink,” he said.

Jason suddenly looked nervous. “You go ahead. I’ll just take whatever.”

Percy gave him an odd look. “What’s the matter? Why can’t you just go to the bar with me?”

Jason shifted uncomfortably. “The barmaid and I…we don’t get along.”

“Hey, you’re the one who dragged me here. The least you can do is buy me a drink. C’mon.”

He set off toward the bar and Jason followed, albeit reluctantly. The bartender, a pretty girl with dark eyes and long, dark hair braided over her shoulder, was busy wiping down glasses when they arrived.

“Hey,” she said. “Can I get—oh.” Her warm demeanor vanished when she laid eyes on Jason. “It’s you.”

“There’s no need to be so rude,” Jason said. “After all, we’re paying customers.”

“Let me remind you that I could have you tossed out in a heartbeat,” she said sweetly. She turned to Percy. “What’ll it be?”

“Don’t I know you?”

“I’m Reyna,” she said. “We may have met. Now, do you want something to drink or have you just come to harass me?”

“Um, no. Can I get two beers, please? Whatever you have on tap.”

“Hmph,” she said, but she pulled out a pair of glasses and began filling them.

“I still think you should bring Annabeth here,” Jason said, his back pointedly turned to Reyna. “It would be a good bonding experience.”

“Annabeth’s already _been_ here,” Reyna said, the “you blithering idiot” all but audible at the end of her statement. “She dances here on amateur night sometimes.” Oblivious to—or perhaps ignoring—Percy’s openmouthed stare, she went on. “She’s quite good, actually. Her song of choice is ‘Fat Bottomed Girls,’ if I remember correctly.” She slid the drinks across the bar without looking at either of them. “Anything else?”

“I think we’re good. Uh, thanks, Reyna.” Seeing that Jason refused to engage her further, he slid a ten across the bar. “Keep the change.”

“Yeah, sure.” She turned her attention to wiping down the bar.

Recognizing a dismissal when he saw one, Percy got up and left the bar, Jason right on his heels.

“You owe me five bucks,” Percy said. “And what was that about, anyway? Is she your ex?”

Jason rubbed the back of his neck. “Sort of. It’s complicated.” He looked over at Percy. “So your girlfriend’s been hanging out here without your knowledge, huh?”

Percy rubbed his temples. “I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t even want to _think_ about it.”

Jason smirked. “I think it’s kind of hot.”

“You probably shouldn’t talk about Annabeth like that,” a quiet voice said.

Percy and Jason turned to see Nico, looking out-of-place and uncomfortable among the dancers and other patrons.

“Uh…Nico? Are you old enough to be here?” Percy asked.

“I turned eighteen a few months ago, so yeah, I am.” Nico was dressed more casually than Percy would have thought acceptable, but maybe he got a pass because of his parentage.

“Take a seat,” Percy said. “Do you come here often?” He noticed that several of the girls were eyeing Nico warily and giving him a wide berth.

“Sort of,” Nico said. “But not for that reason!” he added angrily when Jason snickered.

Jason coughed, probably to hide more laughter, and looked around. “Where’d Luke go?”

“Probably off to get a private dance from someone,” Nico said. “Have you seen Bianca?”

“Um, no,” Percy said. “Does she work here?”

“Yes,” Nico said, balling his hands into fists atop his jeans. “And she won’t quit, no matter how much I ask her to.”

“Isn’t that kind of her choice? If she wants to work here or not, I mean.”

Percy regretted saying so almost immediately; the look Nico gave him was so dark it made him squirm.

“Um, I mean…that’s why you come here so often? To see your sister?”

“Yeah. To talk to her, if she’s not too busy with…customers.” He said the word like it tasted bad.

Jason, clearly bored with the conversation, rolled his eyes and turned to watch a curvaceous redhead sashay down the catwalk to the main stage.

“Piper would smack you cross-eyed if she were here,” Percy said.

“Well, she’s not, and this is going to stay between us guys, okay?” Jason threw back the last bit of his drink.

“Stay on my good side and quit taking my money and I’ll think about it,” Percy said.

“Some friend you are.” Jason’s gaze wandered around the club, sometimes lingering on this dancer or that.

Percy sipped his drink and watched the dancers as well, though not quite as intently as Jason. He’d just finished his beer and was vaguely wishing for another one when Jason spoke up.

 “Hey, we know him,” Jason said, gesturing across the club.

When he saw the person sitting at one of the stages and staring hopelessly at the dancer there, Percy’s eyes bugged. Before he knew it, he’d dropped into the seat next to him. “Good _gods_ , Leo, what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said. “Don’t you two have girlfriends?”

“People keep bringing that up,” Jason complained, sitting on Leo’s other side. “So what if we do?”

“Not all of us are so lucky,” Leo said. “Is Reyna here tonight?”

“Unfortunately,” Jason said. “If you haven’t gotten your daily dose of ice princess, she’s working the bar.”

“No need to be so mean,” a passing dancer muttered.

Jason snapped his fingers at her. “Hey, sweetheart—how much for a private?”

She gave him an icy stare. “Probably more than you can afford,” she said, and strutted off.

“The dancers here sure aren’t very friendly,” Percy commented.

“Nah, they just don’t take crap from anybody,” Leo said. “They’re plenty friendly if you’re nice.” He watched the dancer onstage flow like water around her pole to “Some Nights.” He sighed wistfully. “Wish I had some singles.”

Jason rolled his eyes and handed Leo a few bills. “Go make her feel special, Valdez.”

“Weren’t those my ones?” Percy asked as Leo walked away.

Jason waved a hand at him. “I’ll pay you back.”

“Yeah, right,” Percy grumbled.

Jason just laughed. “You need to unwind, dude. Come on, I’ll buy you a drink or two if you do the talking.”

Percy sighed. He had never been one to hold his alcohol well, but he needed something to calm his nerves and drinking seemed like the most plausible thing in his current situation. "Fine."

“Back again, I see,” Reyna commented, still pointedly ignoring Jason. “Can I get you anything?”

Percy was about to answer when Leo rejoined them. His face was red and he had a lipstick print on his cheek.

“You have got to be the easiest person to get money from,” Jason said.

“When it’s not my money, you bet,” Leo shot back. He spotted Reyna and immediately changed his demeanor: he leaned casually against the bar and grinned when she glanced in his direction. “Hey, Reyna.”

She just rolled her eyes. “Do any of you want anything?”

“Not right now,” Percy said, ignoring Jason, who glared at Reyna.

Reyna glared right back. “Fine. Call me if you need anything.”

“You two really need to work that out,” Leo said. “You’re cramping my style.”

“You don’t have a style, Valdez,” Jason said.

“So you think. You should see me work when you’re not around.”

Percy rolled his eyes, wishing he’d taken Reyna up on her drink offer. He could use a distraction at that moment.

“Look who finally decided to join us,” Jason said.

Percy turned to see Luke walking down the stairs, looking very pleased with himself. He spotted the small gathering at the bar and strolled over to join them.

Luke’s hair was mussed and he was grinning. “Hey, boys. Hope you’ve been having fun.”

“Clearly not as much fun as you,” Leo muttered.

“Don’t be a wet blanket.”

“Are any of you going to buy something or are you just crowding up my bar for giggles?” Reyna asked, hand on her hip.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Luke said, giving her a charming smile.

Reyna was not charmed. “Get out of here, Castellan, and take your friends with you.”

“Should you really talk that way to paying customers?” Leo asked.

Reyna just gave him a withering look, flipped her braid over her shoulder, and went to attend to a customer at the other end of the bar.

“Real friendly staff they have here,” Percy commented.

“You just have to know how to deal with them,” Luke said, herding them all away from the bar. “That being said—what are you idiots doing just hanging out at the bar? Go get a girl. You’re at a strip club, for the gods’ sake.”

“I might if I had any money,” Jason said with an overly-dramatic sigh.

“I might if you hadn’t _spent_ all my money,” Percy said pointedly.

Luke rolled his eyes. “You’re all pathetic. Here, Grace. Pick a girl you like and spend some quality time with her.” He tossed Jason a twenty. “I swear, you look like a bunch of dumbasses just sitting around.”

“What about you?” Percy asked as Jason left. “What are your plans, now that you and Thalia have been, uh, reacquainted?”

“Me? I’m just getting started. In case you hadn’t noticed, there’s a shit-ton of sexy ladies here, and I’m going to make the most of it.” He winked and sauntered off.

“Oh, this was a bad idea,” Percy muttered. Movement caught his eye and he saw Leo sidling back to the bar, eyes fixed firmly on Reyna.

Before his friend could get himself into further trouble with the bartender, Percy caught his arm. “C’mon, Leo. Look, that dancer’s really good. Let’s go check her out.”

Percy wasn’t really interested in the dancer—though she was very talented. He’d spotted Nico sitting at one of the chairs around the stage, looking almost tense enough to be used as a pole himself.

“You do realize how uncomfortable you look, right?” Percy asked as he sat down, leaving a space between him and Nico just to be safe. Leo, Jason, and Luke filled in on either side of them.

Nico rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s just—weird here,” he said. “I don’t like it.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t have pegged you as the strip club type,” Percy agreed. A hand brushed his hair and he looked up to see the dancer—a sleek, mahogany-skinned girl—wave at him from up on her pole. He handed her a few ones and she gave him a genuine smile before returning to her routine.

“What are you doing back so soon?” Leo asked, directing the question at Jason, who sat beside him with a disgruntled sigh.

“Dancer said I was getting too handsy,” he grumbled. “She said she wouldn’t call Lady A, but she’d have to cut our session short.”

“Serves you right,” Nico said. “Rule number one for patrons: Hands off; no ifs, ands, or buts.”

“I just touched her waist,” Jason complained. “I wasn’t doing anything too horrible.”

“Forgive me if I don’t have much sympathy for you,” a voice said.

Percy turned to see Bianca walk up beside Jason, a sardonic look on her face. She sat down between Nico and Percy with a smile. “Hey there.”

Nico closed his eyes, like just looking at her was painful. “Bianca—”

She held up a hand. “We have this conversation every single time you come here. I’d like to skip it, just this once.” She looked at Percy. “Hi, Percy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before.”

“I was coerced,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow. “Really now. Coerced into coming to a strip club. I can’t imagine it was difficult.”

“Oh, _man_ ,” Leo said, staring at something to the left of Percy’s head.

He turned to look and saw Reyna striding down the main stage’s catwalk, but not Reyna like he’d seen her earlier that night. Now, she wore a black crop top edged with silver and matching bottoms, rounding out the ensemble with lace stockings held up with garters and, of course, the standard-issue silver heels. Reyna glanced at the DJ booth and nodded once. “Break You Hard” started playing.

Percy wouldn’t have thought it would be a good song to dance to, but Reyna proved him wrong. He never knew she had such good rhythm—or upper body strength. She’d undone her braid for the dance, and he had to admit he liked the way her dark hair swept over her shoulders and swung against her back as she moved.

Though Reyna was a good dancer, the real treat was watching Jason’s face. His expression went from startled to astounded and quickly became sulky. His snit deepened further when Reyna swung around the pole and blew him a sarcastic kiss.  

“I didn’t think she was a dancer,” Percy said.

“She’s not,” Bianca said. “She’s considering it, though, and Lady A lets her dance if it’s quiet.”

“Not that I don’t enjoy your company, but shouldn’t you be, like, dancing or offering private dances or something?” Percy asked.

Bianca gave him a small smile. “It’s not like I haven’t made any money already this evening,” she said. Ignoring Nico’s wince, she went on, “I go on the main stage in a little while. Until then, well…are you interested in a private dance?”

“No, he’s not,” Nico said forcefully before Percy could answer.

“I’ll take it,” Leo said. “How much?”

Bianca considered him for a moment, then said, “Twenty bucks, one song. Sound good?”

Leo pulled a twenty out of his pocket and Jason held up a hand. “Hold on. I thought you said you didn’t have any cash.”

“I said I didn’t have any singles,” Leo said. “I’ve got _some_ money.”

“Clearly,” Jason muttered as Bianca led Leo to the stairwell and up to the upper floor.

“What’s up there, anyway?” Percy asked.

“The private dance rooms,” Nico said tightly. “I’m going to kill him.”

“How about you don’t,” Percy said hastily.

“Yeah,” Jason said. “He’s useful, even if he doesn’t always seem like it.”

Percy glanced at the staircase to see Luke coming back down it, looking very pleased with himself.

“These ladies, I love them,” Luke said, swaggering back over to join them. A few buttons of his shirt were undone.

“You’re burning through cash like you have it,” Jason said, frowning at Luke. “You know rent’s due soon, right?”

“Lighten up. I’ll give you my half before it’s due, don’t worry.” He looked up at the main stage and his eyes widened slightly. “ _Damn_ , she is good,” he said as he watched Reyna finish her routine. “I never knew she had moves like that.”

“You come here every week and you’ve never seen her dance?” Jason asked.

“I’ve been…otherwise occupied,” Luke said evasively. “Hold on a second, I’m going to see if I can land some time with her.” He pulled out his wallet and made a beeline for the curtained-off hallway that led to the dressing room. Reyna was barely two feet out of the doorway when he pounced.

“Hey, sweetheart—” he said, a bill already in his hand.

“You can stick that twenty where the sun don’t shine, Castellan,” Reyna said, striding right past him and heading for the bar again. “I don’t do privates and you know it.”

Luke pulled a face at her retreating back and cast around for something else to occupy him. Percy suppressed a roll of his eyes and returned his attention to Nico and Jason, who were deep in conversation about having sisters who worked at the club.

“It’s not like it’s all that bad,” Jason was saying. “I mean, it could be a lot worse.”

“Still, though,” Nico said. “I’m just not comfortable with this. I’ve told her that.”

“This is a really high-end place. Bianca’s lucky Thalia found her and offered her a job before a seedier club did.”

“Well, sure, but—wait, _Thalia_ offered my sister this job?”

Sensing trouble on the horizon, Percy broke in. “Let’s not discuss that here,” he said.

“Percy’s right,” Jason said. “We’ve got a host of half-dressed pretty girls around us. And I stillhaven’t gotten a lap dance.” He raised an eyebrow at Percy. “And neither have you.”

“Annabeth probably wouldn’t like that too much,” Percy said nervously.

“She doesn’t have to _know_ ,” Jason said, exasperated. “What’s the point of coming to a strip club if you aren’t going to get even one private dance, anyway?”

“Um…enjoying the company?”

Jason snorted. “That’s cute. Come on, there has to be at least one girl here you like.”

“Well, I mean…she’s really good,” Percy said absently, watching the dancer on the main stage knock her heels against the pole in time to “Any Way You Want It” before launching into a truly impressive aerial display of windmills, splits, and other moves Percy couldn’t even name.

“You want me to get you a private dance from her when she’s done?” Jason asked.

Beside him, Nico snorted. “Good luck,” he said. When Percy and Jason turned to look at him quizzically, he explained, “That’s Zoë. She’s been here since this place opened, practically, and she can afford to be picky.”

“But this is _Percy_ _Jackson_ ,” Jason said. “She should pay _him_ to give him a lapdance.”

Though she couldn’t have possibly heard him, Zoë glared in Jason’s direction before returning her attention to her routine. Nico didn’t say anything, only gave Jason an I-told-you-so look.

“So much for having it any way you want it,” Jason muttered.

Zoë’s dance ended soon after and she stretched gracefully from her pole, collecting her tips. From what Percy could see, there were a lot.

“I told you she was popular,” Nico said, as if reading Percy’s mind.

Rick Springfield’s “I Get Excited” began playing as Leo rejoined the group at their table. “Bianca’s on,” he said. Percy noticed his tie was missing but decided not to comment on it.

“There she is,” Jason said, gesturing toward the dressing room. Zoë strode out, head held high, ignoring everyone except her fellow dancers. “Better make your move, Perce.”

“I don’t know,” Percy said. Girls as a whole made him more than a little nervous, and girls who looked like they could kick his ass without half trying made him extra anxious. “Maybe Nico has a point.”

“Oh, go on,” Jason said. “Here, I’ll buy you a couple shots of vodka. That’ll give you some courage.”

 _Like Reyna’ll let you buy anything,_ Percy thought, but refrained from voicing.

“I wouldn’t go near her,” Leo said. “She looks like she could take off your head with one of her heels if she wanted to.”

Percy took a deep breath. “Not helping, Leo.”

Bianca walked back over, a little flushed and breathless but grinning. “You guys sure I can’t get you anything?”

“Bianca, I’ll take that dance now,” Percy said before the words really registered in his head.

Even she looked a little surprised. “Really?” Then she recovered and said, “I mean, great! Come on, I’ll take you upstairs.”

Jason wolf-whistled as Bianca started to lead Percy away, making the latter blush a little. He carefully avoided looking at Nico, who was no doubt glaring daggers at him.

Once they’d climbed the stairs and Bianca had shut the door of the room, she gestured to the plush seat situated near the wall. “Make yourself comfortable. We can just wait until the next song starts. It shouldn’t be long.”

Percy settled himself on the silver-cushioned chair, already antsy.

Bianca dimmed the lights and walked over to stand in front of him. “Okay, here’s the deal: no touching allowed. You’re a really nice guy and I’d hate to have to call Lady A on you, so hands off, okay?”

“Deal,” Percy said.

Bianca cocked her head, listening to the music being piped through the room. “Oo, ‘Birthday Cake,’” she said. “I like this one.”

“Um,” Percy said as he gripped his knees. He hoped his palms weren’t sweating too badly.

Bianca looked him over and pursed her lips. “You’re not very relaxed,” she said, her hands on his shoulders and her hips already starting to sway back and forth. “Don’t worry. Annabeth won’t smell me on you or anything. I’m sure she’s fine with this. After all, she dances here sometimes.”

“It’s not Annabeth,” he said, trying not to look at any of Bianca’s exposed skin—of which there was quite a lot.

Bianca considered a moment as she put one heel on the top of his seat. “It’s not Nico, is it?”

“I would really rather not discuss your brother while you’re giving me a lapdance, thanks.”

“Sorry,” she said, but she was grinning. “Seriously, though, you should relax. I don’t bite—that’s Thalia’s thing.”

The alarmed look on his face made her laugh. “I’m kidding,” she said. “Well, mostly. Luke would know better than me.”

Her statement didn’t do much to help the somewhat-traumatizing mental images now running rampant through Percy’s head. Bianca had to fully settle herself in his lap before he focused back on her.

“You’re not paying attention,” she said, sounding a little disapproving. “I feel bad taking your money if you’re not enjoying yourself.”

“I’m enjoying myself,” he assured her. “I promise.”

“Hm.” She didn’t look like she believed him. “Well, even if you’re not, this is a short song. It’s probably for the better, in your case.”

“Um.”

Bianca smiled and then leaned back, sweeping first one hand and then the other to the ground. Percy had to appreciate the core strength it took to do something like that—if he attempted anything of the sort, he’d probably fall flat on his face. He glanced down at her, saw how her fishnet top stretched over her stomach, swallowed, and quickly looked away.

Bianca gracefully pulled herself back up using nothing but her own abs, her dark hair falling over her shoulder. “Song’s almost over,” she murmured. “You doing okay?”

“I, uh…erm?”

She laughed. “Good to know.” The song ended and Bianca slid neatly away. “Here, I’ll take you out,” she said.

Percy followed her out of the room and down the stairs, determinedly keeping his eyes trained between her shoulders. He felt better once they were back in the club’s main area; it had more distractions.

“Um, thanks, Bianca,” he said, handing her an extra five as a tip.

“No problem,” she said, expertly arranging it in her garter. “Have fun, all right? Maybe I’ll see you later.” Before he could react, she kissed him on the cheek. Then she clicked away, waving at him over her shoulder as she did.

“You look like you’re having a good night.”

Percy jumped and turned to see a very familiar redhead grinning at him from the DJ booth. “Rachel? You work here?”

“Part-time,” she said. “It gets me out of the house, so to speak.”

“Are you…like Reyna?”

“You mean, do I dance? Nah. I’m not nearly that coordinated. But I like this job. The girls here are really friendly.”

“If you say so,” Percy muttered.

“Rule number two for patrons: the dancers don’t have to be nice to you if you’re rude to them.” She readjusted the claw clip that pinned up her hair. “By the way, did you know Annabeth likes to swing by here?”

“So I’ve been told,” he grumbled. “What sort of tunes do you play?”

She shrugged. “Whatever the dancers want, usually. I mean, they have their main dance songs and I have a short playlist of their favorites, but they can request whatever they want.” She gestured. “Looks like your friends are getting ready to take off.”

He looked in the direction she’d indicated to see Jason half-dragging Leo away from a disgruntled-looking dancer. The former looked around, caught Percy’s eye, and gestured for him to come over.

“I’ll talk to you later, Rachel,” Percy said.

“Sure thing.”

Percy made his way over to Leo and Jason, the former of which looked a little more tousled than he had previously.

“This is what happens when you fall for a bartender,” Jason griped. “You spend a million dollars on drinks, get hammered, and then start to break the rules.”

“I’m not that bad,” Leo protested. “Lemme go.”

“Shut up, Valdez. You want to get us kicked out?”

“We’re taking off, I suppose?” Percy asked.

Jason grimaced. “We’d better. Have you seen Luke?”

“Not recently.”

Jason swore. “He’s our ride! How are we supposed to—?”

Percy cleared his throat and pointed over Jason’s right shoulder, where Luke was again descending the stairs with Thalia right behind him.

Jason grumbled under his breath but said, “Quick, grab him before he disappears again. I don’t want to get kicked out.”

Percy waved to catch Luke’s eye but only succeeded in getting a few odd looks from nearby patrons. Exasperated, he put his fingers in his mouth and gave a short, sharp whistle that made everyone on the lower floor turn in his direction. Thalia was the first to spot him, and he gestured her and Luke over. 

“We need to take your favorite customer away now,” he said.

Thalia smirked. “Probably just as well. I think he’s almost out of cash.”

Luke gave her a look of mock hurt. “I’m one of your best customers,” he said. “Shouldn’t I get at least one or two freebies?”

Thalia’s snort clearly indicated how likely that was. “You’re one of my regular customers, honey, but who said you were one of my best?” She winked at Percy and added, “Enjoy your night,” before sauntering off.

“Damn,” Luke said, his gaze following Thalia as she strutted through the club. “What I wouldn’t give to—”

“All right,” Jason cut in. “I know you like her and all, but she’s still my sister. Also, I think Valdez might hurl, so the sooner we get him out of here, the better.”

“If you toss your cookies in my car, you get to walk home _and_ clean it up, understood?” Luke said.

“I’m fine,” Leo said, though he looked a little woozy. “Broke, but fine.”

Lady A was still at the door when they left, Jason and Percy half-carrying Leo. “Have a good night,” she said. Percy could have sworn he saw a half smile on her face.

“Goddammit, Valdez,” Jason grumbled as they stepped into the chilly night air. “You spent all my money—”

“You mean _my_ money,” Percy said.

“—and I didn’t get a single private dance tonight. Not one.”

“Quit your bitching; you’ll be back again next week,” Luke said. “Do we have everyone?”

“Yeah,” Percy said. “Plus a couple extra.”

“You should’ve left me there,” Nico groused.

Jason ignored him and rubbed his hands together. “That was fun,” he said, “even if I didn’t get everything I came for.” He glanced at Percy and grinned. “I say next time, we bring the girls.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was prompted by an anon to write something from Annabeth's point of view, and I couldn't resist.

Annabeth, contrary to popular belief, enjoyed spending time at Club Agrotera. There was something about the place that made her feel safe and welcome, especially in the off-hours as the dancers stretched and practiced. She always theorized that it was Lady A’s extensive list of rules and hawklike watchfulness—nothing slipped past her, and if any of the patrons put so much as one toe out of line, she was on them in a second and escorting them out the door.

Thalia had been the one to introduce her—or recruit her, as she thought wryly some time later. Annabeth had called her up one day, wanting to meet for coffee and chatter, since it had been a while since she’d seen her childhood friend. Thalia, however, had declined, saying she needed to get something done for work.

“You have a _job_?” Annabeth hadn’t meant to sound so incredulous, but Thalia was more of the freelance type who usually refused to be tied down by such mundane things as scheduled hours and biweekly paychecks.

“Of course.” Annabeth could imagine her friend perfectly, lounging in a chair and examining her nails. “I mean, it’s not exactly conventional, but I like it.”

“What have you done now?”

Thalia _tsk_ ed into the phone. “Hey now. Don’t give me that. It’s a good club and the girls are all really nice.”

“A good—Thalia, are you a _stripper_?”

“ _Exotic dancer,_ thanks very much. And I don’t like your tone.”

“Thalia…” Annabeth sighed. “All right, it’s your life, I guess.”

“That’s the spirit.” There was a pause, then she said, “Hey, why don’t you come down with me today? We can still hang out, and you’ll get to see my workplace. It’s great, I promise.”

And that was how Annabeth found herself stepping out of a cab in front of a silver-festooned building. A sign in elegant, looping script identified it as “Club Agrotera.”

“Nice,” Annabeth murmured, taking it in. After a moment, she adjusted the strap on her messenger bag and walked up to the front door. Thalia had told her to just walk on in, but the club’s windows were heavily tinted and Annabeth couldn’t even see if there was anyone inside. But Thalia had promised she and at least some other dancers would be there, so Annabeth straightened her t-shirt and tapped on the door.

After a few seconds, the door opened. A girl with coppery skin and glossy black hair peered out, her dark eyes narrowed in suspicion. “May I help thee?”

Annabeth blinked at the girl’s use of old English, but said, “I’m Annabeth, Thalia Grace’s friend? She invited me to come down here today.”

The girl studied her a moment longer, then stepped aside. “Well, welcome to Club Agrotera, then. My name is Zoë.”

“I’m Annabeth. Nice to meet you.” Annabeth stepped inside, looking around curiously.

Zoë shut the door behind her. “I will fetch Thalia for thee. You may wait wherever you’d like.” She walked off, her steps clicking against the glitter-embedded black floor. Annabeth looked down at her feet with idle curiosity and almost fainted—her heels had to be seven inches at least, and she strode across the club like they were little more than sneakers.

A few girls—Annabeth assumed they were dancers—were eyeing her with interest, so she gave them a polite smile and headed for a quiet corner. The club was laid out well, Annabeth thought, and she especially liked the curved staircase off to the side that led up to a second-floor loft. Some dancers sat on the stages and stretched or practiced moves on the poles. Others sat around with their friends, sipping coffee or energy drinks and talking.

Zoë reappeared. “She’s warming up right over there,” she said, gesturing to a stage to the right.

Annabeth followed her gesture and headed over. Thalia, in a sports bra and leggings with her blue-streaked black hair spiked straight up, was indeed on the stage, stretching with one knee wrapped around the pole and leaning out so her body curved like a crescent moon.

“I never knew you were this flexible,” Annabeth said, leaning her forearms against the stage.

Annabeth! You made it.” Thalia stood up and grinned. “So? What do you think?”

“It’s a nice place. You definitely could have done worse.”

“Gee, thanks,” Thalia said dryly.

Annabeth laughed, then said, “Does Jason know?”

Thalia waved a hand to show just how much stock she put in her little brother’s opinion. “He’ll be by sooner or later, I’m sure. Until then…I’m not worried about it.” She hopped off the stage. “C’mon, let me show you around.”

What followed was a tour of the entire facility, from the backstage area to the dressing rooms to the private dance rooms upstairs. Thalia introduced Annabeth to some of the dancers she’d befriended. All were very friendly, Annabeth found, and pretty soon all her nerves had vanished. She felt like she fit right in.

The tour closed, funnily enough, at the bar, where a tan-skinned girl with a dark braid was busily wiping down glasses. Annabeth watched her curiously, wondering who she was. Whoever she might be, she was certainly pretty.

Thalia noticed Annabeth staring. “That’s Reyna. She’s our bartender.” She gave Annabeth a sly sideways glance. “She dances sometimes, too.”

“Mm,” Annabeth said.

“Hey, Reyna, can you get me a water with a lime twist?” Thalia said, easing onto a stool. “This is Annabeth, by the way.”

“Hi. Nice to meet you.” Reyna poured Thalia’s drink. “Can I get you anything?”

“I’m good. Thanks, though.”

Thalia spun her stool around and leaned against the bar, watching the floor. Annabeth mimicked her, taking in the club’s off-hours activities with interest.

A young woman with a silver headband in her auburn hair walked by, deep in conversation with Zoë. She didn’t seem like a dancer, though she was roughly the same age as them. There was something in her bearing that suggested royalty, almost. Annabeth was intrigued almost immediately.

“Who’s that?” Annabeth said, pointing with her glass.

“That’s Lady A,” Thalia said, lowering her voice slightly. “She’s the club’s owner.”

“Is she—”

Thalia shook her head slightly. “No, she’s cool. She can be strict, but it’s usually with the patrons more than us. But she’s just…mysterious. Like, you don’t want to cross her.”

“Noted,” Annabeth said, a little alarmed. Not much rattled Thalia.

The dark-haired girl nudged her shoulder. “It’s not that bad. Promise. Hey, wanna see my new routine? It’s to ‘Pour Some Sugar On Me.’”

“Sure.” Annabeth slid off her bar stool and Thalia followed after handing her empty glass to Reyna.

“See you around,” Thalia said to the bartender.

“Yeah, see you,” Annabeth said.

“Yep. Have a good night.” Reyna went back to arranging her bottles.

Annabeth followed Thalia to a small stage at the rear of the club, toward the main stage. Thalia hoisted herself up as Annabeth settled into one of the chairs that ringed it. Grinning, Thalia struck a pose with her hand on her hip and the other on the pole.

“Okay,” she said. “It goes five-six-seven-eight…”

///

 

A couple weeks passed and Annabeth found herself spending more and more time in the club during its off hours. She got to know the other dancers and would either sit and read while they stretched or critique their routines for them. Eventually, she started coming by during its hours of operation, if only to cheer on her new friends as they performed and to sit and talk with Reyna or if she wasn’t too busy. The club’s patrons were well-behaved, to Annabeth’s mild surprise, and tipped well, if the dressing-room chatter was anything to go by.

Though Lady A knew Annabeth’s face well now and vice versa, the club’s owner had always set Annabeth ever so slightly on edge. It wasn’t that she made her nervous, exactly, but Annabeth felt she needed to mind her P’s and Q’s whenever she was around. And the two had never had a conversation beyond basic greetings and some small talk.

One night, Annabeth sat at one of the stages, talking with the dancers as they passed by and hanging out at the bar with Reyna. The place was busier than normal, and the dancers were all flushed from dancing and happy with their tips. Thalia herself was dancing now, and it seemed like the patrons appreciated it—Annabeth hadn’t seen one trick that didn’t result in bills fluttering to the stage.

Annabeth whooped as Thalia finished her set, swept into an elegant bow and collected her tips. She was happy for her friend that she’d found something she enjoyed so much, even if it was, as Thalia had put it, unconventional.

“Why don’t you dance?” Lady A said.

Annabeth started and looked at the club’s owner, who had seemingly appeared seated at her elbow out of thin air. “I don’t—I don’t think I’m cut for this kind of work,” she said, blushing a little. “I mean, I can’t even dance.”

“How do you know? You’ve never tried, have you?” Lady A studied her unwaveringly, her silver-blue eyes piercing. “I don’t want to pressure you, of course, but I think you’d be very good at this. You have that same—certain something I look for in all my huntresses.”

Annabeth knew that _agrotera_ was Greek for _huntress_ and that was why some patrons referred to the girls as such, but there was a gleam in Lady A’s eyes that made Annabeth suspect the name may have a deeper meaning.

“Thank you, but…I don’t know if my boyfriend would be happy if I did something like this.”

Lady A waved a dismissive hand. “Who cares what he thinks? He doesn’t own you. You’re free to do what you wish, and if he has a problem with it, that’s his issue.”

Annabeth said nothing.

“You don’t need to become a full-time dancer if you don’t want to,” Lady A continued. “Look at Reyna. She only dances when she feels like it. Perhaps you would be interested in that?”

Annabeth pondered this. She’d never considered exotic dancing as a career option, but maybe every now and then, just for some extra cash…that didn’t sound too bad. She knew how the club worked well enough by now, and had even started to recognize the regulars.

Lady A waited patiently while Annabeth ran all this through her head. Finally, Annabeth looked her right in the eyes. “I’ll do it,” she said. “Tonight. I’ll start tonight.” And why not? The place was busy. Best to hit the ground running.

Lady A smiled, almost as if she’d known Annabeth would answer like that. “Excellent. Zoë can help outfit you.”

Lady A raised a hand and beckoned. Within seconds, the dancer had arrived, shaking out her silver-braided hair and looking mildly irritated about something.

“Is something wrong, Zoë?” Lady A asked. She seemed slightly amused.

“Not terribly. Only some boys being unnecessarily crass.” Zoë adjusted her garter. “They are not tipping us well for our trouble, either.”

“I’ll look into it. Would you mind helping Annabeth find an outfit? I believe she wishes to dance tonight.”

Zoë eyed Annabeth with a glint of new appreciation in her eyes. “Are you considering becoming a huntress thyself?”

“Maybe,” Annabeth said. Adrenaline had kicked in in preparation for what she was about to do, making her feel slightly reckless.

Lady A smiled slightly. “Very good,” she said. “Now, Zoë, if you would? I’d like Annabeth to go on next, if it isn’t too much trouble.”

“Certainly.” Zoë nodded toward the dressing room. “After you.”

Once in the dressing room, Zoë wasted no time in striding toward the closet and rifling through it. As Annabeth understood it, dancers could either purchase their own outfits or create something from the dressing room’s many leftover clothes. As long as the girls wore the silver heels, anything was fair game.

“Here, these garters will suit thee. And…yes, I believe these stockings are in thy size. And try this.” Zoë tossed articles of clothing at Annabeth with alarming speed, and when Annabeth just stood in the middle of the room and tried to catch up, Zoë looked at her and said, “Well, what are you waiting for? Go ahead and try them on. I will wait.”

Annabeth, after realizing that squeamishness about her body was pointless, did so. The outfit Zoë had pulled together was skimpy but still classy, keeping everything adequately covered while hinting at better things to come. Annabeth had ended up in a stretchy black crop top, a very tiny black skirt that didn’t even pretend to cover her butt, and sheer black stockings held up with garters. Looking at herself in the mirror, she had to admit that, while she wouldn’t wear it on the street, she looked good. Like, damn good.

“Here.” Zoë handed her the club’s trademark silver heels. “They are only six inches, and the platform is generous. You will not fall.”

Annabeth slipped her feet into the shoes; they fit perfectly. Of course. Zoë seemed to have something of a sixth sense when it came to sizing.

“Everything fits well?” When Annabeth nodded, Zoë said, “Good. Now sit. I must do thy hair and makeup and we are running out of time. Sit.” She pointed to one of the vanities that lined one wall of the dressing room.

Annabeth did, feeling that now wouldn’t be a good time to drag her feet. Zoë scrutinized her messy blonde curls, tugging on one of her own braids thoughtfully as she did so. “Well…it actually looks quite good. Here, bend over and flip thy hair forward.” Once Annabeth had done so, Zoë sprayed the bottom with something. “Flip up.” She added more to the top layers and pulled it out, so that Annabeth’s hair stood out with almost flawless eighties volume. “Excellent. And do not worry, that will stay put while you are dancing.”

“Thanks,” Annabeth said, but Zoë wasn’t done yet. After peering intently at Annabeth’s face for a minute, she pulled several makeup palettes out of a drawer and brandished them like weapons.

“Hold still and close thy eyes,” Zoë ordered. Annabeth obeyed, and she felt the soft bristles of a brush sweeping across her eyelids. After a few minutes, Zoë said, “You may open now.”

Annabeth did and caught her breath. Zoë had created a beautiful smoky look with gray-blue shadow and navy liner, making Annabeth’s gray eyes stand out even more than they usually did. As Annabeth gawked at herself, Zoë swept a bit of silvery glitter over Annabeth’s cheekbones and collarbone.

“There. Do you like it?”

“Oh, yes,” Annabeth breathed. “Thank you.”

Zoë gave her a grudging smile. “You wear it very well. Have you picked a song?”

“Yeah, Queen’s ‘Fat Bottomed Girls.’ Cynthia said she’d relay it to the DJ.”

“Excellent.” Zoë paused and looked her over, then said, “You will do well. Just remember to feel the music and don’t try to strain yourself. You are a new dancer, after all.” She patted Annabeth on the shoulder. “I will see thee later.” She exited the dressing room, leaving a mildly flabbergasted Annabeth in her wake.

After making sure her hair and makeup were good—they were flawless; Zoë had to be some kind of wizard—Annabeth had nothing else to do but leave the dressing room and head to the backstage area. She swallowed, took one last look in the mirror, and stepped out onto the floor.

The first few people she saw were dancers, who all gave her encouraging smiles. Some of the patrons, too, were eyeing her with interest, but she ignored them. She wasn’t ready to do private dances and she knew it.

“Hey, Annabeth?”

Annabeth turned to see Reyna leaning against her bar top. “Yes?”

“You don’t have to tell your boyfriend if you don’t want to. Keep it a secret. You know, between us girls.” Reyna grinned.

Annabeth found herself grinning back. “You know…I think I like that idea.”

Reyna gave her an honest-to-god wink and turned back to her customers. Annabeth began to walk to the backstage area when Reyna called after her again.

“And Annabeth?”

The blonde paused and looked over at her.

“You look really good in that outfit.”

Annabeth went slightly red, but before she could think of a response, Reyna had already engaged with a new customer at her bar. Annabeth shook her head to clear it and walked with renewed vigor to the curtained-off backstage area.

“There you are,” Thalia said when she arrived. “I was beginning to think you’d chickened out.”

“Me? Chicken out? Never.” Annabeth tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

“No, leave it,” Thalia said, pulling it out again. “It frames your face really well.” She saw Annabeth’s expression and softened. “Hey, you’re gonna be fine. You’ve got a rockin’ bod and you move really well. And the patrons don’t matter, anyway. Do this for yourself—be confident and act like you’re the sexiest thing in the world—and they’ll eat it up.”

Cynthia poked her head into the dressing room. “Annabeth, you’re up next.”

“Work it,” Thalia said, and Annabeth gave her a slightly nervous smile. She fluffed her hair one last time and strode out onto the catwalk. The stage was dark, lit only from behind, and when she saw all the men staring up at her, her nerves faltered a moment.

Then she saw the way they took her in, hungrily, like she was something they’d never seen before. Their eyes traced their way up her legs and lingered on her stomach and drank in her cleavage. She had them in thrall already and she hadn’t even started dancing yet.

Annabeth leaned back against the pole, breathing deep through her nose. One hand gripped the pole behind her back and the other hung casually down, her head tipped back. With the backlight, she knew she looked good.

 _“Are you gonna take me home tonight…”_ The lights swung up, and Annabeth found herself grinning. This was going to be fun.


End file.
